Magnetic
by Heroes Fly-Minho's Hero Limps
Summary: Newt didn't want this; he just wanted the bullying to stop, wanted to be free of fear. What he ended up getting was a bit more than that.
1. Chapter 1

-Yep. Another soulmate fic. Now, guys, the only reason I wrote this was because I promised some people I'd write a story based off an adorable picture on Pinterest. So, Pinterest people, if you're on here right now, here you go! I sincerely hope you enjoy this, and if you haven't read the Maze Runner trilogy, it really doesn't matter. In the end, these are just characters taken from another story and put in here; you don't need to know Maze Runner to read this. :)

Now, unfortunately, I kinda hate the first half of this. I feel like it wasn't written very well, mainly because I have so much I need to write on here. If you notice that, then I apologize.

For those of you following my Hellfire series, there will be a special Christmas fic coming out soon. I'm trying my best and I want to thank you all for your incredible reviews and patience.

And so, until next time, lovely readers! Enjoy!-

-Magnetic-

Newt wasn't going to lie.

There were sometimes when he would rather do ANYTHING than come to Glade High School.

Take right now, for instance.

"What's up, gay boy?" that nasty voice called, echoing in the crowded hallway. Newt barely had time to turn and face the attack; hands planted on his shoulders and shoved him back. He gasped in pain, heels catching on the dark carpeting. His back collided with the hard metal of the lockers, sending a throb of pain across his shoulders. Wincing, he glanced up into the wicked, ebony eyes of Minho Park. The senior track star was grinning in sick glee down at his victim. "What, you're just gonna ignore me? I asked you a question, nerd."

His words were punctuated with a push at Newt's shoulder. He banged back against the locker again and stifled a whine. "I—I just—" he tried.

"Just what? Spit it out."

"C—come on, I didn't do anything to you."

"Are you arguing with me?" Minho asked testily.

Newt gulped and wished he could just shrink until he disappeared.

The physical and verbal abuse had been going on for weeks now. Ever since the very first day Newt moved to Glade High School, this horrible horrible boy had been attacking him with insults and rough shoves in the hallways. And, even worse, nobody cared. Even now, eyes were averted to the sides and heads were ducked away. Nobody wanted to be the one to defend the skinny, nerdy gay boy. No one wanted to risk the same fate as Newt. He hadn't done a thing to deserve this; the first day, he'd happened to glance over at the tall handsome athlete across the hall and had stared for a moment too long. Minho had caught him. And from then on, Newt had been his lone target.

Newt wanted to go back and tell himself to never even walk NEAR Minho that day. Maybe he wouldn't be pinned against his locker right now.

"I'm not trying to argue with you," he said weakly.

Minho arched an eyebrow. "Really? Because I don't believe you, faggot."

Flinching away from the word, Newt pressed his palms against the cool surface of the locker behind him. It was his only anchor in this situation. "C—can you please not call me that?" he stammered out.

"Now, I know you didn't just try to tell me what to do," Minho growled. One hand slammed against the locker door, inches from Newt's head. Newt jumped, ashamed at how he reacted to the action. He'd been beaten by Minho before and it felt like every old bruise reappeared when he was threatened like this. He already knew there'd be more of this torture later. A sneer twisted Minho's lips. "That's what I thought." Taking his hand from the locker, he casually plucked Newt's glasses from his nose. "I'll take those."

"H—hey!" Newt protested feebly. He made a grab for his glasses, but Minho lifted them up above his head. Newt, being a sophomore, was too short to reach.

"C'mon, jump for them," Minho challenged. "See if you can take them from me."

"You know I can't reach," Newt replied, fighting back tears.

Minho grinned. "Then you're not getting them back." And he placed the glasses into his back pocket.

Everything was a blur, and not just because of his missing glasses. Tears burned in Newt's eyes and he blinked furiously to get rid of them. He couldn't believe that Minho was going to make him cry in the middle of the hall. Finally, he tried begging. "Please."

Minho barked a laugh, crossing his arms over his chest. "I don't think so. I think I'll see if you'll answer me the right way later and then, maybe you can have them back."

"B—b—but—"

"Sorry, Isaac. Looks like you're going the rest of the day blind AND disgusting." Snatching Newt's collar, Minho yanked him off the locker, then forced him back into it again. The thud sounded in the hall and pain lanced up into Newt's head as the back of it hit the metal. He whimpered as quietly as he could, not wanting the shame to worsen anymore. Laughing with his victory, Minho sauntered away. A backward glance was thrown over his shoulder, a warning in his gaze. "See you in gym class, gay boy."

Gym class. Just a nicer way teachers spelled out "hell."

Surrounded by other students, but terribly alone, Newt wiped at his eyes with his sleeve.

He ached to not be alone anymore.

-X-X-X-

Newt knew that the only way he wouldn't be alone anymore was to find his soulmate. He'd seen it happen before. It was...Oh, it was...it was beautiful. He couldn't really describe it. What happened was...well, he just hoped that it would happen to him someday.

"Not that it'll be any time soon," he muttered to himself, shoving his arms into the sleeves of his baggy white sweater. He'd been made fun of for this sweater many times, but he liked it. It had a black drawing of an atom on the front, so yes, quite nerdy, but cool. At least, he thought so.

Right now, he was in the boys' locker room. Gym class, mercifully, was over. They'd played dodgeball. You can imagine who everyone aimed at the entire period, especially Minho. Newt had bruises all over him; a good-sized one still throbbed on his shoulder blade. He was just glad that it was over now and he hadn't broken his glasses. Mainly because Minho still had his glasses and refused to give them back. Everything still looked a little blurry, but he was kinda getting used to it.

The locker room was empty by now, the benches and lockers silent around him. Newt took a long long time in the locker room so that he didn't have to change in front of the other boys. The insults and jeering were already too much to take. He didn't want to show them how shrimpy he was by changing in front of them. Gloomy now, he tugged on his sweater and reached for the black Converses on the floor.

Suddenly, someone's sneaker appeared out of nowhere and kicked his shoes across the room. Then hands spun him around, fisting in his collar painfully. Gasping, Newt came face-to-face with Minho Park. Of course. How had he thought he could get away with a decent day in Gym class?

"Hey, gay boy," Minho sneered with dark cheer. This was his usual greeting, so Newt didn't even reply to it. There was always something following. Minho didn't disappoint. Reaching up, he slipped a pair of glasses from the neckline of his blue T-shirt. "These yours?"

"Yeah, I—C—can I please have them back?" Newt asked stutteringly. He didn't know how else to ask.

"You think if you ask, I'll just give them back to you? Just like that?" Minho shook his head pityingly. "You know me better than that, faggot, don't you?"

Trembling, Newt tried to shrink away, but Minho's grip on his collar stopped him. "W—what do you want, then?"

Minho smirked, a deadly twist of his mouth, and Newt cursed at himself for reacting a little to it. Minho was an asshole and Newt was afraid of him; but that didn't change his utterly perfect features. It was noticing how stunning Minho was that got Newt into this in the first place. Why were the hot ones always the meanest? "I think I wanna teach you another lesson, nerd," Minho replied dangerously. A whole head taller than Newt and steely with muscle, he was menacing in how he crowded in on the sophomore.

Newt swallowed, because he knew what those lessons involved. He was going to have a lot more humiliation by the end of the day. "Just get it over with, then," he muttered, lowering his eyes away from Minho's. He didn't want to see the stupid, smug grin on the other boy's face when—

And that was when it happened.

The thing that might've seemed small to other people, people who were happy together.

The thing that was gigantic, and incredible, and life-changing to these two people.

A curious, soft blue light began to touch the bottom of Minho's chin. It shone on his skin, bringing out the way his smirk had fallen away in shock. His grip on Newt's collar slackened. He was staring, dumbstruck, at something on Newt's chest. At first, Newt didn't understand what was happening at all. He could see a strange light reflecting in the dark irises of Minho's eyes. That, and the new astonishment on Minho's face, scared him. "W—what—?" he began, and then he saw.

A similar glow had warmed the fabric of Minho's shirt. But his was softest crimson, pulsing slowly. Newt was fascinated to realize that he could see the outline of Minho's sternum and something else...something that the glow seemed to radiate from...something beating...

In a jolt, he understood. He looked down at himself with a squeak; his chest was colored in sapphire light, pulsing with the beats of his heart. He'd seen it once before and he'd heard of it from countless people. This was it.

This was what happened to someone who had found their soulmate.

The two boys looked down at themselves for a very long minute. Then, slowly, they raised their eyes to each other's faces. The light of their chests mingled between them and lit the sharp features of Minho's face. Newt's palms felt clammy. MINHO was his SOULMATE? The person who insulted him on a daily basis? What had the world come to?

At the same time, a bit comically, the two leaped away from each other. "Aw, HELL no!" Minho clawed at the front of his shirt, as though he could tear the light off of him. He growled in frustration when it didn't work. "You've gotta be KIDDING me! YOU?"

For once, Newt didn't feel quite so afraid around Minho. It was different when the bully was scared too. "You're not exactly who I wanted to be stuck with, either!" he protested, voice still wobbling at Minho's scorching glare. "You think I like the idea of my soulmate being YOU?"

Minho jabbed a finger at him. "I am NOT your soulmate. No way."

"But our—"

"I don't care."

"You can't change what—"

"I don't care."

Newt wanted to roll his eyes, but he wouldn't dare in front of Minho. He knew very well what happened when soulmates realized what they were. It was out of their control. They physically had to be around each other, the way magnets were pulled together. Sometimes, as in Minho's and Newt's case, it took longer for their souls to realize they'd found their mate. Minho's bullying probably hadn't helped at all. But now that they knew what they were, there was no stopping what was bound to happen. Newt felt a little sick at the thought. He was going to be drawn to Minho, the same way Minho would be drawn to him.

The universe really liked to screw with him, didn't it?

"You do realize what's gonna happen, right?" he asked, daring to break the awkward silence again. Minho's gaze flicked up to him, wary. "You can't stop it and neither can I."

Minho scowled. "Watch me."

"You're impossible!" Newt blurted out, unable to help himself. Besides, there was no way Minho would dare touch him now. It was like being immune to bullying and it felt glorious. His soul was singing with the victory when Minho just tossed his glasses at him, letting them clatter onto the floor.

"Just stay away from me," Minho spat, backing away. "I don't care what you think and I don't care that we're soulmates. This isn't happening. None of it." With that, he whirled away and stormed out of the room. The door slammed shut behind him.

Newt stood alone for a moment. The victory was fading and replacing it came worry. What had he gotten himself into? Forget that, what had the UNIVERSE gotten him into?

Bending down, he picked up his glasses and cleaned them with his shirt.

At least he wasn't going to lose them again anytime soon.

-X-X-X-

Newt was at a football game. Maybe you don't understand how miraculous this was. Newt never went to football games. He wouldn't even step ten feet near that field. Minho always went, of course, and Newt would be stupid to put himself in a situation like that. But now? Now, it was nighttime, the lights were lit like miniature stars, and Newt was sitting in the metal bleachers with hot chocolate. No one was sitting with him. He couldn't have cared less, because as long as they didn't bother him, he wouldn't bother them.

Minho had been avoiding Newt like the plague. It became quite a spectacle at school, to see the fearless track star practically hiding from a skinny little blonde. Newt loved it. No more being pushed into lockers. No more glasses being broken during dodgeball. No more bruises on his skin. The bullying had finally ended. Sure, people still didn't accept him, but he was getting there. Just yesterday, a nice girl named Brenda had approached him and offered to sit with him at lunch.

Newt wasn't afraid anymore. It was beautiful.

And, since, Minho wasn't around him, he hadn't felt that magnetic pull of their souls yet. Thank God, he thought, because he wasn't sure what he would've done in that situation.

"Hi, Newt!" a voice called, and it was so cheerful, it made him blink in surprise. Down at the bottom of the bleachers, a pretty brunette in a brown vest was waving up at him. Brenda. She was smiling.

"Hey, Brenda!" He waved back. So this was what having friends felt like. It warmed his heart.

"Sorry I can't stay, I gotta go to my cousin's birthday party!" she yelled up to him. "But it was nice seeing you! We'll come to the next game together, okay? My brother really wants to meet you!"

Newt brightened. "Thanks! I'll see you later then."

"See ya!" Winking teasingly, she started off again.

Newt was still smiling after she left. He'd never had a friend like Brenda before. He had a feeling he'd be getting into some crazy adventures with a confident girl like her. Shoving a hand in the pocket of his gray hoodie, he took another sip of hot chocolate. It was chilly outside and the warm drink was welcome in the cold. He wasn't really interested in football, but he wanted to see the halftime show; Brenda's friend, Teresa was in the band and Newt had promised to see her perform. He was just wondering how much longer it was going to take, when—

"Hey."

Glancing up at the voice very close to him, Newt blanched. Minho was standing over him, hands hidden in the pockets of a leather jacket. His hair was very black and perfectly spiked, and it suddenly looked way too attractive to Newt. He could almost feel his chest glowing beneath his hoodie. Crap, he was in trouble. "H—hi," he stuttered.

Minho glanced away, then back again, uncomfortable. "Can I sit here?"

"Sure." Looking away, Newt was still as Minho sat on the bench next to him. There was a safe space between them, but it still felt too small. Or too big. Or both. Christ, he COULD feel his chest glowing, a warmth bubbling up inside of him. Good thing he couldn't see it through his hoodie.

They sat quietly for several minutes. Newt could sense the unspoken things hanging between them. They hadn't chosen this. But they had to deal with it now. This close, their souls reacted to each other. Newt wanted to scoot closer to Minho now, despite everything. His soul was reaching out toward Minho's and taking him with it.

Finally, it was Minho who spoke. "Listen, uh...I'm sorry," he mumbled.

Now Newt gaped at him in astonishment. "What?"

"I'm sorry," Minho repeated, scrubbing at the back of his neck. "For, um, everything. I've been thinking about it. I know I was being an asshole and it bothers me, because I'd probably still be an asshole if this whole...soulmate thing hadn't happened. And I don't think I wanna be that kind of person. So...I'm sorry."

Newt didn't quite know what to say. He certainly hadn't expected THIS. "I...Well, thanks...I guess," he said at last. "B—but I can't just...forget all of it." He swallowed and lifted his eyes hesitantly to Minho's face. The other boy looked more vulnerable than Newt could ever remember seeing him. "You really hurt me, Minho," he whispered.

Minho closed his eyes. "I know. I know. I shouldn't have, and not just because we're soulmates." Opening his eyes again, he stared down at his boots. "I guess the reason I did it was because you're, you know, gay. And I saw you look at me the first day and I didn't want people to think I was like you." At that, he managed rueful smile. "Because I am."

"WHAT?" Newt choked out. "You're...?"

"Yeah, I'm gay. But I never told anyone, not even my parents. My dad and my friends really hate it. I didn't want them to know."

"So, all of the bullying and the name-calling... It was all because you were afraid of what they'd think if they knew?"

Minho nodded.

Shaking his head, Newt cradled his cup and felt the heat in his palms. "Well, good job," he deadpanned jokingly. "I never would've guessed you were gay in a million years."

The smallest of laughs left Minho then. "Yeah."

They were quiet again. But it was a different kind of quiet. This was one that Newt didn't mind so much. He felt like there was something inside of him that had been broken and was just beginning to heal now. Maybe this whole soulmate thing wasn't that bad after all.

"I can't stay away from you, you know."

Newt's head jerked up at that. Minho was watching him, half a smile tugging at his lips. Newt's heartbeat stuttered inside of him. "What do you mean?" he asked shakily.

"It's not my fault," Minho replied, shrugging. "I guess it happens to all soulmates. But I physically can't stay away from you anymore. I—I don't know how to deal with it."

Newt couldn't breathe. "Me neither," he admitted.

"I mean, I thought I convinced myself that I hated you," Minho went on. "But now, I can't even sit anywhere in these bleachers without getting up and walking over to you. God, I—" He broke off with a nervous laugh, running a hand over his hair. "I'm actually thinking about your hair and your eyes and dammit, how much I just want to hold you."

Newt couldn't stop staring. He never saw this coming. But he'd be lying if he said he didn't feel the same way. His chest felt hot with the light pouring out of it. Minho looked so beautiful with his broad shoulders framed by that jacket. Newt was in disbelief when he realized that he was imagining cuddling with Minho right here in the bleachers. He thought that they shouldn't take things too fast, especially after everything. But what he ended up saying was, "I want that too."

Minho's dark eyes met his. Newt froze. There was a sliver of red light filtering through the top of Minho's jacket. His gaze was suddenly intense in how it fixed on Newt. Blushing stupidly, Newt pushed his glasses up on his nose and cleared his throat. "Sorry, I shouldn't have said that," he muttered.

"You shouldn't say anything."

Newt wondered what this meant, but then Minho's hand was on his side and dragging him across the bench. Gasping, Newt found their sides pressed together. His mind reeled. Minho's arm was around his waist and the scent of leather and some sharp cologne hit Newt's senses. God, Minho smelled so good and felt amazing, and Newt was at a loss for words. He looked up at Minho and saw Minho gazing back, a questioning smile on his face. "Thank you," Newt murmured, and rested his head on Minho's shoulder. "Thank you." Because kindness was all he ever needed, from the very start.

Soft breath tickled the top of his head as Minho whispered to him, "you're welcome, Newt."


	2. Chapter 2

-Um, of course I made a part two to this. I didn't expect to get such wonderful reviews and I had to write down this idea for these two. I hope you like it and please excuse my (once again) excessive use of Minewt fluff. I tend to pack a ton of it in there... XD-

Newt...wasn't used to having a boyfriend. It wasn't like he'd ever had one before and he'd certainly never had one like this before. It wasn't every day, after all, that you found out the bully that had been tormenting you was your soulmate. Newt hadn't chosen for that to happen and honestly, when it did, he still didn't want anything to do with track star, Minho Park. But soulmates didn't have a choice; they were physically magnetic to each other, unable to stay away. He'd found out that that much was true, when Minho had come to him at a football game and confessed that he couldn't keep away from him anymore.

Now, two and a half weeks later, Minho himself was realizing a lot more about soulmates. Every time he was near Newt, he could feel his chest glowing that same, soft red glow it had when he first realized what Newt was to him. The same thing happened to Newt. Now that he'd finally confessed to being with Newt, Minho was trying to treat him as best as he could. Maybe it was guilt too, for what he'd done to the blonde before.

Either way, he was being the best boyfriend Newt could've asked for. There was just one problem:

He couldn't tell if Newt really forgave him because, well, after three weeks, he'd never let Minho kiss him.

There'd been multiple times, missed chances and stolen moments together. After a football game they'd gone to together, Minho had been so caught up in how adorable Newt looked, with his blacked-rimmed glasses and swimming in Minho's leather jacket. Unable to help himself, he'd backed the blonde up against his car. He'd thought they'd have their first kiss then; Newt started stammering and blushing cutely, and closed his eyes when Minho brushed their noses together. And then...he'd politely, gently, pushed Minho away, claiming it was cold and they'd better get home.

Minho brushed it off at the time, thinking that maybe Newt wasn't ready to take their relationship farther than handholding yet. But now...now he couldn't figure out what he was doing wrong. When they were watching a movie at Newt's house, cuddling on the couch, Minho thought he had another chance. But when he leaned in, Newt had stood up quickly, saying he was going to get a drink. Similar things had happened since then, with Minho making the first move and Newt running away. Minho had no clue what was wrong. Maybe Newt didn't forgive him yet, for all the awful things he'd done before. Maybe he was growing tired of Minho. But that was impossible, wasn't it? They were soulmates. Surely, there hadn't been some sort of...mistake there, right?

Minho hoped not. He really did.

He thought he'd have another chance tonight.

The couple was out in a field just outside of town, where Minho had parked his car. It was an uncharacteristically chilly night for the Fourth of July and once again, Minho had loaned his jacket to Newt (just because he loved seeing Newt in it). There was a fireworks display starting soon and the two had a great view from here. No one ever thought to drive out here to see the fireworks. Only Minho knew about this place and he'd wanted to take Newt there. He loved how this place looked at night, with fireflies darting like sparks through the grass and the star-studded sky overhead. However, all thoughts of the scenery were drifting away in the presence of Newt, leaning against the hood of his car next to him.

Newt was in the middle of explaining something about his summer homework, gesturing with his hands and blue eyes alive with thought. He was always passionate about getting good grades in school. Truth be told, Minho was busy watching Newt's expressive hands and imagining those slender fingers in his hair. He swallowed. "Newt?"

"Huh?" Newt asked, as though coming out of a daze. He blinked over at Minho, questioning. Flaxen hair flopped down into his eyes.

Minho, a boot resting on the bumper of his car, grinned over at his boyfriend. "You're cute when you talk about school and go all nerdy on me."

"O—oh." Blushing, Newt glanced away from him, then back again. "I guess I kinda get carried away sometimes..."

"I don't mind."

"But you like...sports and things like that." Newt's words were emphasized with his gaze roving over Minho's Glade High Track sweatshirt.

"So?"

"So, I'm not..." Trailing off, Newt fingered the too-big sleeve of Minho's jacket. The unspoken words hovered over his lips.

Scooting over, Minho let their shoulders brush together. "I don't care," he reassured the blonde. "Why would I care? You're my soulmate." The smile that spread over Newt's face at that made Minho's heart swell in his chest. He smoothed Newt's hair back and affectionately nudged his glasses up on his nose. He remembered how he'd stolen them before, refusing to give them back and shoving Newt into a locker. His soul ached. "I'm sorry for everything I did before," he added in a lower voice. "You know that, right?"

Newt's gaze flicked downward. "I know," he replied. "But you changed. And no one's ever treated me like you do." Looking back up at Minho, he leaned their shoulders together. "I forgive you, Min."

Minho gave a little shiver. He adored the nickname Newt had given him recently and he longed to hear it again and again. Slipping a hand into the back of Newt's jacket, he wrapped an arm around the blonde's waist. He felt Newt shudder at his touch and press into him more. The warmth of body heat flooded into him, making him dizzy. This. Just this. His chest was glowing, warming the fabric of his shirt. He knew that Newt's was too. They were meant for each other, and no one else would ever make them feel like this. With the thought spurring him on, he touched two fingers to Newt's chin. "Newt," he breathed, tipping Newt's chin up.

Newt stiffened. His eyes were blurring, they were so close to Minho's. His breath slipped out and tickled Minho's lips, sending a white-hot flame down his spine. He dropped his gaze to Newt's lips, the sweet, soft curves of them so close. He wanted to taste them on his so badly, it hurt. When he glanced back up at Newt's blue eyes, he noticed the way they were fixed on his mouth. The longing in them had him giving a soft wanting sound as he started to close the distance between them.

And Newt jerked backward, avoiding the almost-kiss. Again. Minho blinked at him and Newt toyed with the hem of his jacket nervously. "I—I..." he tried once, dissolving into silence. Minho could see him searching for words and his heart sank.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, dropping his hand from Newt's face. "I can take a hint."

Newt's brow furrowed. "What d'you mean?"

Bracing his hands on the hood behind him, Minho stopped touching Newt altogether. (even though the aching glow of his soul told him to never stop, never ever) "You don't want to kiss me," he said flatly. "I get it."

"W—what? No, I—" Motions unsure, Newt hooked a finger in the neckline of Minho's shirt. "I never said I didn't want to. Of course I want to kiss you, Minho, I've wanted to for..." Cheeks turning pink, he bit his lip. "I've wanted to for a long time. But..."

Hope stirred in Minho and he studied Newt in confusion. "But what?"

"I've never...kissed before," Newt confessed in embarrassment. "I always think that I'll just...get it, but then you start to do things and I don't know..." He stammered himself into silence and hid his face in Minho's chest, evidently mortified. "I'm an idiot," he mumbled.

Minho stared down at the top of Newt's tousled hair and relief made his shoulders sag. That was all. Newt did forgive him and he did still want to be with him. He was simply nervous about his first kiss. Chuckling, Minho ran a hand over Newt's hair. "You're not an idiot," he said. "Everyone gets nervous."

"Including you?"

"Including me."

After a second, Newt lifted his face from Minho's chest and looked up at him. "...when was your first kiss?"

Minho shifted uncomfortably. He didn't like talking about his past relationships with Newt. "I was a sophomore," he admitted. "It was a girl named Megan, and I kissed her at a party. It wasn't...special or anything. I didn't even like her."

Newt nodded, as though thinking about this for a moment. "So...so how was it? I mean, you wanted to kiss her, right?"

Smiling wryly, Minho skimmed a fingertip through Newt's silken hair and down his cheek. "I don't think it was like how kissing you will be," he replied. "Because I didn't want to kiss her as badly as I want to kiss you."

Newt's ears burned crimson. When Minho's fingertip continued in tracing around the ridge of his ear, Newt's lips parted, a gap of sapphire light leaking from the open leather jacket. Seeing his body react to Minho's touch made goosebumps rise on Minho's skin. "I'm still nervous," Newt admitted in a tiny voice, even as he cupped the back of Minho's neck.

"Just relax, angel," Minho whispered. He looped his arm around Newt's waist again, keeping their sides pressed together. Newt was the one leaning in now, their foreheads touching, then their noses, and then, finally, their lips. Minho was irreversibly lost.

Newt tasted like honey, and sugar, and summer. Everything was tentative, but perfect nevertheless. Newt didn't know what he was doing. His hand on Minho's neck was shaking, but Minho had expected all of that. He just kept teasing Newt's mouth with tiny kisses, taking the lead. The soft touches drew a delighted little squeak and half a smile out of the blonde. Minho nearly grinned himself. Then he pressed a longer, closed-lips kiss to Newt's mouth, not taking it too far yet. He wanted to test this, to see how comfortable Newt was with everything. Newt responded with a gentle hum, half a giggle because the mood was still pretty light. Then Minho took Newt's bottom lip in his teeth and tugged lightly. A gasp escaped the blonde and Minho took his chance. He urged Newt's lips apart with his own and the kiss took on an entirely new meaning.

They were only kissing for a moment, their lips slotting together perfectly. When Minho's tongue barely grazed Newt's for the first time, Newt made a throaty noise and broke it. They stared at each other, breathing raggedly, flushed. "What?" Minho managed to ask, struggling to catch his breath. Holy hell, he wasn't used to how one kiss from Newt could completely unravel him.

"I just..." Reaching up, Newt touched his lips with his fingers. "I wasn't expecting that, that's all."

Minho grimaced. "Was it...bad?"

Newt's eyebrows shot up. "Are you kidding me?" he asked incredulously. Then he was gripping the front of Minho's sweatshirt and hauling their lips together again. Minho's mind flew away.

It was hot and deep before he knew what was happening. Newt was clinging to him like it was all he wanted, and Christ, his tongue was much too clever, and Minho wanted moremoremore. His soul was pulsing with light now, seeping through his shirt. It urged him forward, told him to not stop and ravish Newt here, now. Newt licked his lower lip and tangled his fingers in Minho's spiked black hair. Whimpering, Minho pushed off from leaning against his car. Facing Newt now, he took the blonde by the hips and hefted him up. Newt didn't protest when Minho set him on the hood and stepped between his knees. Rather, he made a truly delicious sound and wrapped his arms around Minho's neck to get closer.

They were full-on making out now. Minho couldn't care less. He smoothed his hands up Newt's jeans, over his thighs, the curves of his hips. He relished every purr that fell into his mouth from Newt's lips. He knew, in that moment, that he wanted this forever. "You're so shucking gorgeous," he breathed between their frantic kissing. "I can't believe how I never noticed, how I treated you. I was so stupid, Newt, so stupid. I'm sorry."

"I forgive you," Newt gasped out. "Minho, I forgive you, Minho, Minho..." Minho's name was all he could say, slipping out in whispers as he lost himself in more heated kisses. Shifting backward on the hood of the car, he tugged Minho with him.

Hot fire lit up Minho's insides as he bent over Newt, actually climbing onto the hood with him and caging Newt's hips between his knees. He moved to stretch out on top of Newt, twining their legs. Bracing his forearms on either side of Newt's head, he ducked to kiss him again. Newt's lips moved with his languidly, a hungry mewl slipping out of him. His fingers danced down Minho's chest to the hem of his shirt. Daringly, he snuck a hand underneath and felt the strength of Minho's toned abs. The touch sent a jolt through Minho's body and he gasped. Newt had never touched him like that before. It was intoxicating. "Newt," he murmured, and pressed his mouth to Newt's so hard, it pulled a groan out of Newt. Newt angled his head desperately, letting Minho lick the breaths from his tongue.

They were crazy for each other. The only thing that made them pause was something hard bumping into Minho's nose. There was a muffled, "ow," from Newt and Minho tore away from the kiss, puzzled. He looked down admiringly at Newt's heated lips and mussed hair. And damn, he didn't know how much he would love seeing Newt's glasses fogged up slightly. A burst of laughter escaped him and Newt grinned sheepishly. "Sorry," Newt mumbled, fingering the rim of his glasses. "I think they hit you."

"It's fine. Here, let me, sweetheart," Minho cooed, easing the glasses off of Newt's nose and folding them closed. He tucked them safely in his back pocket. Then he sank his fingers of a hand into Newt's hair and ran it between his fingers. "Can you see all right?"

"Yeah," Newt answered. "I'm fine."

"I'm not used to seeing you without them." Minho trailed little kisses down Newt's nose. "You look cute."

"Cute?" Newt repeated, the happiness clear in his voice.

"And stunning." Minho pecked Newt's lips, then moved down to touch his lips to his chin. "And sexy." Newt laughed then, and it was the sound that Minho's soul longed for every day. "What?" Minho asked uncertainly.

"No one ever calls me sexy," Newt giggled, shaking his head. "I'm too much of a nerd to be, t—to be—" He cut off then, because Minho had ducked down and was kissing his neck. No one had ever kissed Newt's neck before. His head fell backward, back arching up, and his fingers clenched in the back of Minho's shirt. The hottest noise Minho had ever heard was the moan that escaped Newt's throat then.

They were all over each other. Minho was tasting the curve of Newt's throat under his lips and Newt's hands mapped out his body. No clothes came off, but every part of them ached with wanting it. Even though he'd only just graduated from high school and Newt was still a junior, Minho didn't know if he'd be able to hold back. If he'd kissed a little lower to Newt's collarbone, or if Newt's hands had strayed too far up the back of his shirt, he didn't know if they would've gone farther, as far as they could go. Luckily, they were stopped when Newt tried to splay his hands over Minho's back pockets. "Ow," he muttered again, making Minho draw back. Newt's face screwed up in confusion, then cleared when he realized what had happened. Blushing, he slipped his fingers into Minho's back pocket and pulled out his glasses. "I forgot they were there."

Minho smirked. "That's what you get for trying touch where you shouldn't," he teased, nuzzling Newt's neck and making him squeak shyly. He was much too adorable. Minho watched in silent affection as Newt put his glasses back on and gazed up at him with pure adoration. Leaning down, Minho pecked Newt's lips again, before slipping his hands under Newt's back; he helped the blonde sit up again, moving to sit beside him with his arm around his hips.

The two sat like that, much like they had before. But this time, Newt rested his head in the crook of Minho's shoulder and Minho hooked his fingers through the belt loop of Newt's jeans. Minho nosed Newt's hair. "Newt?"

"Hmm?" Newt hummed drunkenly, glancing up at the sky. The fireworks would be starting soon.

Minho took a deep breath. "Newt, I—I know we've only been dating for three weeks, and um, that's not a really long time, but we are soulmates, so..." Closing his eyes, he decided to just say it. "I think I love you."

There was silence. Minho braced himself for a disappointing answer. Then Newt stretched up to softly kiss his ear and whisper there, "I love you, too, Min."

Minho couldn't take it. He turned his head so that their lips met again, in a softer, tender kiss.

Fireworks lit up above them.


End file.
